uncers 183

Chapter 183 

NORTH RIDGE 

The boardroom was full, the meeting was in session, but Patrick wasn’t really there. 

He sat at the head of the table, fingers drumming lightly against the surface every now and then, while a cluster of elders and pack representatives discussed security expansions, logistics, and trade routes between their territories. 

Voices rose and fell around him, words pouring into one another, but none of them truly reached him. His mind was elsewhere-back at the gala, back to that single, impossible moment two nights ago. 

Alexander Blackwell. 

Patrick had seen him standing right there, the embodiment of a nightmare. That look in his eyes… it hadn’t been shock or confusion. It had been recognition. 

And worse-amusement. 

The kind of look a predator gave when it realized the prey hadn’t gotten far enough. 

Patrick’s chest tightened. He hadn’t been able to shake it since. He’d barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alexander’s smirk-cool, knowing, like he was already three steps ahead. 

He’d always known Alexander was dangerous. But this… this was something else. Because Alexander actually had a reason to come for him. 

Alexander was not the kind of person who forgave. He didn’t make noise before he struck. He planned, he calculated. And when he came, it was swift and absolute. 

If he hadn’t made his move yet, that only meant one thing-he was planning something big. 

The realization made Patrick’s stomach twist. He’d sent out spies-five of his best men-to Blood Crescent territory the very next morning. Their task was simple: find out what Alexander was doing, who he was meeting, what he was planning. Anything. Patrick needed to know what storm was building before it hit his doorstep. 

But so far, there’d been silence. 

Not a whisper, not a trace. 

“Alpha Patrick?” 

The sound of his name snapped him back to the present. 

One of the councilmen, a greying wolf from the eastern border, was staring at him expectantly. So were the others. He realized someone had just asked him a question, though he had no idea what it was. 

He forced a polite smile. “Continue,” he said lightly, waving a hand. “You were saying about the patrol 

routes?” 

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The man hesitated, then continued his presentation. Patrick pretended to listen, nodding at intervals, but 

his mind was still spinning. 

Alexander was alive. That alone changed everything. 

He’d been careful-so careful. The attack had gone exactly as planned. The poison had been perfect. The dagger had gone deep enough that even a wolf of Alexander’s strength shouldn’t have survived. 

And yet, somehow, he had. 

Patrick’s jaw clenched. There was no logic to it. No explanation. 

He glanced across the table at his Beta, Conrad, who was quietly taking notes. Conrad had been with him through everything-steady, loyal, and perceptive enough to read Patrick’s moods without a word. 

When the meeting finally ended, Patrick was the first to rise. “That will be all for today,” he said, dismissing 

the others with a faint wave. “Send me the finalized report tomorrow.” 

The men stood, bowed slightly, and began filing out. 

Conrad remained behind, his eyes narrowing slightly as the door shut behind the last councilman. “You 

didn’t hear a word of that meeting, did you?” 

Patrick exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Not one.” 

“Still thinking about him.” 

Patrick looked up sharply. “Wouldn’t you be?” 

Conrad didn’t answer. 

“Two days, Conrad,” Patrick continued. “Two days, and I still can’t get that damn look out of my head. The 

way he stared at me…” His voice lowered. “You know what that means. You’ve seen that look before.” 

Conrad nodded slowly. 

“Exactly.” Patrick leaned back against the edge of the table, his hands gripping it tightly. “And now it’s my 

turn.” 

Before Conrad could reply, the door opened and one of Patrick’s men slipped inside-one of the spies he’d 

sent to Blood Crescent territory. He bowed his head. 

“Alpha,” he said, slightly breathless. “I have something.” 

Patrick straightened immediately. “Finally. Tell me you have something useful.” 

The man hesitated. “I couldn’t find anything about Alexander’s plans or movements. He’s been quiet. His pack is normal-no signs of war, no unusual meetings, nothing out of the ordinary.” 

Patrick’s lips pressed into a hard line. “Nothing?” 

“Nothing on that front,” the man said carefully. “But… I heard something else. Something you might want to 

know.” 

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Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.” 

“There’s a rumor going around Blood Crescent. Quiet, but spreading. Apparently, Alexander Blackwell isn’t the only heir to the pack or company. There’s another one-a half-brother.” 

Patrick’s brows drew together. “A half-brother?” 

“Yes, Alpha. His name is Marcus. Supposedly the rightful heir by bloodline, and he’s coming back to claim 

what’s his.” 

Silence fell in the room. 

For a long moment, Patrick didn’t move. He just stared at the man, processing what he’d heard. Then, slowly, he began to smile. 

“Well,” he murmured, leaning back. “That’s… interesting.” 

Conrad’s eyes narrowed. “You think it’s true?” 

Patrick gave a soft shrug. “Doesn’t matter yet. What matters is what it could mean.” 

Conrad frowned. “Meaning?” 

Patrick turned toward the window, looking out. His reflection in the glass looked strange-pale, tense, haunted-but his mind was racing. 

“If this Marcus is real, and if he’s coming for Alexander’s position, that means there’s division in Blood Crescent,” he said slowly. “Conflict… chaos. And where there’s chaos, there’s opportunity.” 

Conrad’s expression hardened. “What are you thinking, Alpha?” 

Patrick’s smile returned, sharper this time. “I’m thinking of surviving.” 

“By joining forces with a man you’ve never met?” Conrad asked. 

Patrick turned back toward him. “Do you have a better idea? Because right now, if Alexander decides to come after me, there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop him. You know how he is. If he hasn’t struck yet, it’s because he’s building his move carefully. He’ll wait until I least expect it, and when he does…” He trailed off, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He’ll erase me, my pack… everything.” 

Conrad said nothing, but the grim understanding in his eyes was enough. 

Patrick continued, “So no, this isn’t about alliances. It’s about survival. If Marcus wants Alexander gone, then we want the same thing. I can give him information, resources, maybe even leverage. In exchange, he takes out Alexander. Then…” 

He paused, letting the implication hang. 

Conrad finished it quietly. “Then you figure out what to do with Marcus.” 

Patrick’s smile deepened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly.” 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

< Chapter 183 

Finally, Conrad said, “So you’re abandoning the Blood Crescent takeover.” 

+25 Points 

Patrick’s eyes flicked toward him. “For now,” he said. “When I get to that bridge, I’ll cross it. Right now, my priority is staying alive.” 

He walked toward the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a slow sip, his mind still spinning. 

He turned back to his spy. “Keep digging. I want everything you can find on this Marcus-where he’s from, who he’s loyal to, what his intentions are. If he’s planning to make a move, I want to know before he does.” 

The man nodded. “Yes, Alpha.” 

“And double the surveillance on Blood Crescent,” Patrick added. “If Alexander breathes differently, I want 

to know.” 

When the spy left, Patrick leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a long moment. 

He felt the faintest trace of relief-not safety, not yet, but the illusion of a plan, a thread to hold onto in the 

dark. 

“Marcus,” he murmured under his breath. “Let’s see if you’re as useful as I imagine.” 

Because if he was… then maybe…just maybe, Patrick had a chance.